While I believe the longing for connection to something greater than our limited selves is universal, and has always existed throughout the ages and across cultures, it appears we are at a time when we are collectively suffering from the walls we have built inside ourselves, walls that separate us from our deepest nature, from our brothers and sisters, from the natural world, and from God. As we increasingly experience the pain and frustration of these walls, it is easy to feel hopeless. Overwhelmed with despair, it is easy to turn our backs on God, certain that religion and spirituality have lost their relevance. Or maybe we turn our backs on politics, certain that we cannot possibly make a difference in such a corrupt system. We may turn our backs on our ourselves and our own responsibility to examine how the pain we may have experienced in our childhood is affecting the life we are creating today. We may also turn our backs on each other, certain that we are facing an enemy intent on destroying us. These voices of hopelessness and despair are not telling the truth. They are the voices of our Lower Selves seducing us into submission and enticing us to collude with evil. They are encouraging us to betray the best in ourselves and build our walls taller and stronger. They are trying to manipulate us into justifying our defenses and our pseudo-solutions. We don’t have to listen to these voices. They are not commands we have to follow like lemmings careening over a cliff. There may be great...

Don’t you hate those perfect Christmas letters, the ones enclosed in the perfect christmas card, bragging about their children’s accomplishments, awards, and extracurricular activities, the fabulous trips they have taken over the year, and all the wonderful things they are grateful for? Nothing ever seems to go wrong in those families! I never could write those letters. My life has never been a run-of-the-mill, mainstream vanilla race to keep up with the Jones’. And I never wanted to pretend it was. Because each year for me has always brought a mix of joy and sorrow, success and failure, comedy and tragedy. And this year has been no different. I have had mountaintop highs and dark valley lows. I’ve laughed myself silly, gasped in wonder at the beauty of this world, been humbled by the presence of Spirit in my life, and felt my heart open in compassion and communion with another. I’ve also cried and raged and struggled with fear, disappointment, shame, doubt and despair. With Christmas right around the corner, I have been feeling a new aspect of myself that is trying to be born. I don’t know what she’ll look like, or what she’ll ask of me, or even how I’ll know when she’s arrived. I certainly know that with any birth there are labor pains, and I have been feeling them for quite awhile now. So my celebration of the holiday has been simple this year, letting go of achieving the picture perfect Christmas, and spending time in silence contemplating the light. That beautiful, unique light that we each carry...

As we move through the dog days of summer and I begin to sense that fall is right around the corner, I am reminded that we are approaching a time of transition. The weather will soon begin to cool down, another school year will begin, the leaves will start the process of revealing their glorious display of colors, and before we know it we will have chosen our next President. Life is always changing, but there are certain periods when that change seems more apparent, as if moving at a quicker pace. My oldest daughter is getting ready to make her first big move away from home, relocating from the east coast of Virginia all the way to the west coast of Oregon. She’s been through several periods of change in her short 26 years, but this feels to me like it has the potential to be one of those “summer to fall” kind of changes. Accelerated periods of transition can at times be exciting, and other times be challenging and anxiety producing. Or both. They often involve a letting go of the comfortable and the familiar in order to make space for what is awaiting. It is not unusual to stand at the edge of the abyss, afraid to take that leap into the unknown. I recently saw a video about the morphing of a caterpillar to the chrysalis that will hold its journey of transformation. Now, the caterpillar to butterfly metaphor is a very familiar one, used to describe the beauty and mystery of our own personal transformation. I have always known that inside...

When we first begin our spiritual journey, we find we have wounded, dark corners of our psyche that we have long neglected, that need attention and healing and compassion. This is an essential step in strengthening the ego and reclaiming all of who we are, and the Pathwork teachings and practices are very effective at offering a sacred container for this healing to occur. In the Pathwork Lectures, we find profound truth that open our eyes to new possibilities for a life of joy and fulfillment. In walking this path with others in spiritual community we finally find the loving, nurturing environment we always longed for and deserved as a child. We are seen, heard, and acknowledged for who we truly are. All aspects of ourselves are welcomed. It often feels like water to a traveler in the desert, we have been parched and dehydrated for so long. It’s important to note, however, that the lower self can use this needed and valuable part of the process to keep us stuck there, to keep us in separation. Yes, the lower self can take a genuine part of our journey and make us think we are spiraling inward when we are just spinning endlessly in circles. We can spend the rest of our lives as wounded children that need healing, and never do the work of growing up. We may grow from an infant to an adolescent, but we refuse to launch into adulthood. The lower self is cunning and seductive, and it is important to be alert to its ways. The true inward spiral circles...

January is now in full swing…have you written your New Years resolutions, set your goals, made your to-do lists? Are you determined that THIS year will be the year you finally achieve those goals? Maybe they have already fallen by the wayside, or you did not even bother to make them in the first place, thereby avoiding disappointment? In my last blog post, I spoke of the Roman God Janus, who this month is named after, and how he is depicted with two heads, one looking backward in reflection and the other looking forward in anticipation. I invited you to indulge in a Sacred Pause, reflecting on the meaningful moments you created in the past year. And now it’s time to look forward to the coming year, and consider what you would like to manifest, as well as how to be effective in your efforts. We are frequently bombarded with a variety of fail-proof strategies designed to achieve the goals and resolutions we set for ourselves. And yet often we still fall short…either we seem to lack the discipline, or we work like crazy but don’t seem to attract the abundance we desire. Too little willpower, tons of willpower that is ineffective, or possibly willpower that lasts awhile, and then disappears like snow in sunshine. Have you ever wondered why others seem to manifest with ease, while you stumble time and time again? Part of the trouble lies in our misunderstanding of and misuse of our will. The Pathwork teaches we have an inner will and an outer will, and that both, in their healthy...

Another new year has begun! It’s January, a month named after the Roman God Janus, the god of beginnings and transitions, and often symbolized by gates, doorways, and passageways. Janus is often depicted with two faces, one looking back in reflection, and one looking forward with anticipation. As we begin the new year we stand on the threshold between what has been and what can be, which is a potent time to consciously set intentions for the manifestation of our deepest desires. But before we get busy with New Year’s resolutions, to-do lists, and the details of daily life, I invite you to indulge in a Sacred Pause…an opportunity to slow down, relax, and carve out some time for reflection on the previous year. Allowing the various memories of the year to bubble up as they wish, have your journal handy, and use these questions to guide your meditation: Which memories of the past year held the most meaning for you? Perhaps you achieved a long held dream or goal. Maybe it was an interaction with a stranger or a loved one that invoked intimacy, compassion, or forgiveness. It could even have been a moment you experienced nature with an open heart and expanded consciousness. What did you engage in that made your heart sing? A hobby, an interest, a volunteer offering, a cause you are passionate about, or anything that was just plain fun! What did you learn this year? This might be a practical new skill, a spiritual or emotional insight, or a valuable lesson learned in the midst of adversity. How...